


Fated

by crossingwinter



Series: Reylo Giveaways [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - The Witcher Fusion, F/M, Vomit Content Warning, language content warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23949619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/pseuds/crossingwinter
Summary: Emperor Palpatine declared that it was the new horse in his stable that would reward Kylo of Alderaan's saving his life, fulfilling the Law of Surprise.  But the fates had other plans, and would not be denied.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Reylo Giveaways [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660294
Comments: 174
Kudos: 436





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriarLily/gifts).



> For Briar, who was the third winner of my 100 Reylo Fics giveaway. We landed on a Witcher AU, though she decided to let me choose if the Witcher would be Rey or Ben. I tossed a coin because that felt like the right way to decide.
> 
> I don’t know much about Witcher lore. I just watched the show once, so any reference in here that makes sense (or doesn’t) comes from me (mis)parsing the Witcher Wiki. Please forgive any and all mistakes, I just wanted to use the Law of Surprise in a fic bc god what excellent trope fodder. If you’re someone who cares a lot about canon compliance in this universe, this may be a rough ride for you and apologies for that.
> 
> Lastly--the chapter count is long but the chapter length is short (first and last are a prologue/epilogue); that's just how it ended up shaking out and it felt better to the story to break it up that way than to post a very long oneshot. Updates will happen every 1-2 days.

_ “What can I give you to thank you,” the Emperor of Naboo said, his voice more than a little breathless. _

_ Kylo of Alderaan stared at him with his unnatural yellow eyes, his face unreadable. There weren’t many to witness the moment—the Emperor kept few retainers, for he trusted few to truly keep him safe. But the red-armored Praetorian Guard had not been able to save him from the nightwraith that had come for him.  _

_ Only the Witcher had been. _

_ “No need to thank me,” Kylo said at last.  _

_ “Come now,” Emperor Palpatine replied with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “You have saved my life. Surely there must be something you want?” _

_ But the Witcher did not reply.  _

_ The Emperor sighed and looked at his guards. Then he looked back at Kylo of Alderaan. “If there’s nothing you want, come back with me to my castle. We’ll call upon the Law of Surprise and let fate decide your reward for saving my life.” _

_ To this, the Witcher agreed and he was given a spare mount from one of the Emperor’s guards and it was not long before they were riding hard and fast through the mountains, back to the jewel city of Theed.  _

_ Upon dismounting in the Emperor’s castle, the Witcher looked around, his eyes lighting first on the stable, then on the smithy before at last landing on a girl. _

_ Girl was perhaps the wrong word for her. She was a young woman, but not yet fully grown. She was long of leg and proud of features and dressed in worn out wool. Her sharp hazel eyes locked on Kylo and it was as though for the moment the world went still. There was a hum in the air, a hiss, a whisper, but it seemed that only they two could hear it. _

_ “Well then,” the Emperor said, stepping forward and calling to the courtyard. “What here has changed since my departure? My good friend Kylo of Alderaan saved my life and I would reward him with whatever the fates have chosen for him? _

_ And a hush went through the courtyard, more pronounced than that hum and hiss and whisper in the air and everyone’s gaze turned to the girl. _

_ A throat cleared and a young man with an aquiline nose, lightly curled hair, and an anxious expression stepped forward. “Father,” he said. “I should introduce you to Rey,” and he took the girl’s arm and led her forward.  _

_ “Rey?” the Emperor asked. _

_ “Rey is my… my natural daughter,” the Emperor’s son said. “I only just learned that she lived. Her mother kept her from me for many years, for we could not marry.” _

_ The Emperor’s face was darker than night as he looked at his son, then at the girl who was, it seemed, his granddaughter. _

_ Then he turned to Kylo. “But she is not new,” he said sharply. “Merely new to my court. Were she an infant perhaps, but she’s...” _

_ “Sixteen,” the girl replied quietly. _

_ “Sixteen. If the fates had intended her for you, you would have saved my life sixteen years ago.” _

_ “Of course, your majesty,” the Witcher replied. But his gaze did not leave the girl. His face was still inscrutable; the girl’s was relieved.  _

_ “Majesty,” came another voice, “There’s a new foal in your stable—as fine a warhorse as any I have ever seen studded.” _

_ “There,” Emperor Palpatine said loudly. “That must be what the fates wanted for you. A fine mount for your adventures. Bring him out.” _

_ The stablehand did so, and true enough, the foal was a fine one—strong and black and unafraid. _

_ “What will you name him?” the Emperor asked sounding paternal, sounding jovial, clearly pleased with this tradeoff for his life. _

_ Kylo crouched down to look the horse in the eyes.  _

_ He had the same hazel eyes as the girl Rey. _

_ And when he looked up it was to match Rey’s gaze once again.  _

_ “Whisper,” he said. “His name’s Whisper.” _

_ And if goosebumps erupted across the arms of both girl and Witcher, well—who would know? _


	2. Chapter 1

_ A year later _

Whisper was a good horse. He was strong and fast as the wind, but most importantly, perhaps, he was big. Big enough to support Kylo who, even before he’d been made a Witcher, had been larger than the average human. He struck an impressive figure when he rode the young stallion. If Tai were still around, he was quite sure that the bard would have written another twelve songs about the Witcher on his fine steed, and how the earth shuddered under his hooves and before his blade.

Except Tai would make it sound better than that. Tai was better at words a hundred times over than Kylo.

Once again, grief filled him.

He didn’t always feel grief for those he met in his long years, but that Tai was mortal and he was not would never not sting. Nothing sticks in your ears quite like a catchy melody and Tai wasn’t talented at a whole host of things, but he could craft a catchy tune, and sometimes, at his loneliest, Kylo found himself humming  _ Toss a Coin to your Witcher  _ to himself. 

As far as companions went though—and as fond as he was of Tai—Whisper seemed to be a little more useful for the road because sometimes, the horse would stop, and flick his ears, and Kylo would turn and listen and catch something on the wind, in the air, that required his attention.

“Keep her legs bloody  _ tied _ ,” he heard someone hiss angrily, and Kylo dismounted, drawing his sword. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that it was never a good thing when someone was telling their companions to keep a woman tied up.

He slung Whisper’s reins over a nearby branch, though he wasn’t worried about the horse going far. Whisper was more loyal than any dog he’d ever found.  _ We truly were fated,  _ he thought idly. He hadn’t believed it, no more than anyone in that courtyard. There’d been a hum in the air and his heart had stopped when she’d looked at him, but he hadn’t wanted to have a whole other person to look after. He wasn’t very good at that. Just look at what had happened to Tai. He hadn’t even really wanted  _ anything _ from Palpatine at all, but there had been no denying the Emperor’s determined generosity and Kylo would rather be free of him and have done with him.  _ Better to have let him die. _

Palpatine was faithless, even if most of the world didn’t see it as such. But Kylo knew. Kylo knew in ways that no one else living did.  _ The last Witcher. _

He of all people knew that people weren’t possessions to be toyed with, and for once, Palpatine had been of the same mind, and if Kylo had known who it was he was saving, he’d just as soon have let the nightwraith have him.

“I said keep them tied,” the man’s voice snarled as Kylo approached the clearing where there was a group of men. He hid himself behind a tree, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered. All of them were so preoccupied with their captive that they wouldn’t have noticed Kylo if he’d sauntered into the clearing and come to stand amongst them. “She’s a fucking hellcat. She’ll kick you the second she wakes.”

Kylo peered around the tree.

_ Fuck _ .

It was Rey.

She was wearing Palpatine’s red and black colors and there was blood on her face, trickling down from her head. 

“I still say—” began a second man, and the first cut him off,

“We’ve heard what you’ve had to say and I see it different. Only Dameron will pay for her head. So let’s start a bidding war for her life. How much do you think—”

Kylo didn’t bother waiting for an opportune moment. The three men in the clearing were fighters, yes, but they also had dark bags under their eyes. They had ridden through the night. 

And he was catching them by surprise.

He killed the first with a swing of his sword before any of them were even aware that he’d joined them, and he made quick work of the other two. Neither were armed, both were frightened and he was a Witcher. They were no match—not at all.

He rolled their bodies away from Rey so they wouldn’t be the first thing she saw when she woke then crouched down next to her. He pressed his fingers to her skull and found the tender spot where she’d clearly been hit over the head. 

He looked back over his shoulder. Whisper wasn’t that far. If he whistled, would he be able to call him to his side?

He tried it and a moment later, the horse trotted into the clearing, dragging the tree branch behind it.  _ Good to know,  _ Kylo said as the horse approached. 

Kylo got to his feet again, dug through his saddlebags for a healing salve which he then knelt down again to apply to Rey’s head. 

Almost the moment that his hands touched her scalp, her eyes opened with a groan. 

“Careful,” he told her gently. “Your head’s been hit pretty hard.”

She blinked up at him and he could tell her gaze wasn’t focusing properly. He kept rubbing the salve on her scalp.

“Witcher?” she asked at last.

“Princess,” he replied.

She looked uncomfortable. He imagined she still wasn’t used to being called that. It had taken him  _ years _ to be used to being called Kylo, and Witcher, after his transformation had been complete. Though he doubts that this change in her life was quite as unwelcome as his own.

“I’m not a princess,” she muttered.

“You’re the Emperor’s granddaughter.”

“I’m not legitimized yet. So I can’t be a princess. What happened?” she asked him at last and tried to sit up.

“Careful,” he said, pressing a hand into her shoulder and pushing her back down onto the ground. “Let the salve do its work.” Then he took his knife from his belt and cut the bonds from her hands. He should have done that sooner but her head was a more pressing need. “I found some bandits had taken you,” he said. “They were trying to decide whether to ransom you to your grandfather or sell you to Poe Dameron.”

Rey swallowed and Kylo reached up to Whisper’s saddlebag once again and grabbed a water skin, which he uncorked and tipped into Rey’s mouth. She drank. 

“Thank you,” she said when she finished drinking. Her gaze was getting more focused and her eyes seemed to dance everywhere they could except him—his horse, the trees overhead, the fallen bodies that were still visible if she looked out of the corner of her eyes. “I was lucky you were nearby,” she said carefully.

_ Lucky,  _ he thought.  _ Fated,  _ more like.  _ What fate has designed cannot be undone. _

“Indeed,” he grunted and this time she looked at him.

Most people looked away from his unnatural yellow gaze. They could pretend he was human so long as they didn’t look into his eyes, and the eyes made them nervous. 

Rey didn’t seem nervous, though, as she looked up at him. Or if she did, it was a different sort of nerves, more tied to the situation she was in, being alone in the woods just saved from bandits than she was that he wasn’t human anymore.

“You weren’t hurt, were you?” she asked him, and he shook his head, almost tempted to a smile. “Good.”

They stayed in the camp. Kylo buried the bodies and stoked the fire back to a light. He rummaged through the bandits’ belongings and took what coin he could find, and cooked what food they had for Rey as the sun set through the trees. Then he helped her eat it, for he still wouldn’t let her sit up.

“I can probably feed myself,” she complained as he spooned rabbit stew into her mouth. “I’ve been able to take care of myself for years.”

But he paid her no mind, even if she didn’t stop whining until she was full. She fell asleep soon after and Kylo sat there for a long while watching her in the firelight. He found himself noticing the exact way that the flickering flames cast shadows across her face.


	3. Chapter 2

It didn’t surprise him that he found himself staring at the ends of three swords; what did surprise him was that Tai wasn’t the cause of it this time. How many times had the bard sung the wrong thing, or tried to make the wrong joke and then suddenly it wasn’t  _ toss a coin to your Witcher,  _ it was  _ seven swords for your Witcher _ and a hasty exit out the back with apologies to the tavern owner for causing a disturbance. 

But this time, it wasn’t Tai’s quick tongue and lack of forethought—or really, any thought at all—that had gotten him into trouble. 

“Hail the victorious Emperor!” some poor idiot soldier said, raising his mug of beer for a toast, and nearly every single other person in the bar had done the same. 

Nearly every single one of them. Kylo had not. Kylo had been halfway through a sip of ale and had put his mug down so as not to be mistaken for toasting Palpatine.

“You saved his life though, Witcher, didn’t you?” one of the angry men had said as Kylo had found himself surrounded by four men—or were there eight?—who were quite a bit larger than the ones he usually made quick work of. They might cause him trouble, this lot. He hadn’t had a lot to drink, but he’d had enough that perhaps his reflexes were a bit slow. And where was his sword? His sword was usually right at his hip but now it was… he brought it in with him, didn’t he? “Do you regret that now, is that why you won’t drink to him?” 

He could practically hear Tai say  _ don’t attack innocents, please, I have done so much to try and fix your bleeding angry reputation.  _

But Tai was gone, and Kylo was alone, and he really wasn’t actually sure how many of them were there above him. 

“I imagine he’s had enough to drink,” came a voice that Kylo recognized and he blinked.

“Princess,” the four men all said at once, dropping their blades to their sides as they bowed. 

Rey looked different than she had the last time he’d seen her. Not least because she was clean, and unbruised and unbloodied. She carried herself with a greater confidence, and there was something fuller to her figure—like she’d had more good meals recently than she had when she’d been little more than a waif in her grandfather’s courtyard. She looked strong, standing there with her legs under her hips, her posture casual and yet all too much like a lioness who was about to spring into action.

“This man—” began one of the four but Rey cut him off.

“Saved my grandfather’s life. And mine.” She gave him a smile. “Kylo.”

“Princess,” Kylo said gruffly and Rey pushed past the others and took the seat across from him and this time she didn't protest him calling her that. Without breaking eye contact once, she reached for his mug of ale which sat on the table between them. 

“Since you don’t seem to be drinking this,” she said and she took a sip of it and he watched her swallow it down, the bob of her throat, the way her eyes fluttered closed as she drank, and drank.

“I suppose you’re going to leave me with the bill too,” he said as dryly as he could manage with all the slur in his mouth and she paused in her drinking to smile at him.

“That would be poor repayment of the debt I owe you,” she said.

“You owe me nothing,” he said at once, as he’d said to her on the road at least six times. The last thing he’d wanted was another Law of Surprise reward from the Palpatines. Besides, he’d have rescued her even if she’d been a peasant girl. It was the right thing to do. Yes, toss a coin to your Witcher, but if your Witcher acts before coin is called for, you don’t have to pay him either.

“No,” she said with a pause and pushed the ale back across the table to him. “No, I suppose I don’t.” Something flickered in her eyes and he frowned but she was already waving at the barkeep who was bringing her her own ale and somehow, Kylo was sure that neither of them would be paying for their ale this night. That was the way it was when you traveled with royalty.

They sat quietly for a while. 

It was oddly… companionable. Familiar. He had always been a creature of quiet, and Tai had always made a lot of noise that made quiet hard to come by, but Rey wasn’t one to chatter and fill the empty air. He found it made him want to hear her voice more.

“What brings you here?” he asked when he was halfway through his next mug. “You’re far from your grandfather’s halls.”

“He wanted me to meet with members of the Trade Federation,” she said. “Likely to emphasize both how much power he has over them and how little they matter. If he’s sending along his unlegitimized bastard granddaughter.” She made a face.

“Does he truly have need of them?” It was long enough ago that most forgot, but Kylo had lived a long life, and he remembered that the Trade Federation had been little more than a distraction when Palpatine had claimed his power. 

“I imagine he’s weighing his options. Poe Dameron grows bolder by the day.”

“Hmm,” Kylo grunts. He had never thought of Palpatine weighing his options, though he supposed the man must. He was the sort who had already determined what was to be done long before others began weighing their options.

“Why didn’t you toast him?” Rey asked.

“Why would I?” Kylo asked. “He’s not my emperor. I care not for his victories.”

“Yes but if it was going to get you into trouble—”

“It wasn’t going to get me into trouble.”

“You were outnumbered.”

“I have fought dragons and won. I can handle four drunkards in a pub.”

“Assuming you’re not so drunk that you can’t lift your own sword,” Rey pointed out. “How much ale have you had?”

He looked down at the table. He would never admit it to her—not ever—but his gaze was, in fact, a bit blurry. It was perhaps not necessarily a bad thing that she’d interceded when she had.  _ Toss a coin to your Witcher. Toss a Witcher out of your tavern, he’ll land on his ass, he’ll land on his ass... _

“He won,” Kylo said quietly.

“What?” Rey asked.

“Palpatine. He won. He won and I lost. And time makes some things easier,” he swallowed, thinking of Tai. It still hurt, but it was less of a gaping hole now than it had been, “But it doesn’t always take away the sting.”

“What sting?” Rey was leaning forward and there was a glint to her eye.  _ Why must it be we who are fated? _ He’d have rather had the horse. It would hurt less than being attached to another mortal.

_ Unless she’s not mortal. Her grandfather isn’t, after all. _

“He had his way, and I’m the way I am now.” He coughed, and looked anywhere but at her. Somehow it was harder to say when Rey was looking at him like that. “Witchers are made, not born. And it was his agent who…” he waved his hand. His senses were dulled from alcohol, but he was aware enough to know he shouldn’t be telling her, and that he also couldn’t not tell her. And when he heard her breath catch in her throat, so quietly and yet somehow louder than the rest of the noise in the tavern, he knew that it was right. Fated. 

He wondered how long the fates had planned this for him. He wondered what would happen if he kept on denying it. He didn’t deny it to himself—not after the woods—but to her? But to whatever they were supposed to be to one another?

He sighed and looked at her. There was pity in her eyes and he did not like it. “I hope you never learn the sting of knowing there’s nothing you can do but what he wants of you,” he said. “Though I suppose you’d have a harder time denying it than me.”

She snorted. “As if he doesn’t already have me yoked,” she said bitterly. She flushed and looked away. She, too, had said too much. But unlike Kylo, she got to her feet and to his surprise, dropped a gold coin on the table between them. “I should go.”

“As you wish,” he said quietly. “Until we meet again.”

Rey cast one last, nervous look at him and then she was gone.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to politicalmamaduck for this lovely moodboard <3 
> 
> Sorry for the delay on this one. I have literally no excuses lol.

If Kylo needed more proof that Rey—and not Whisper—had been the one fated to him, it was that he came upon her not three weeks later, nearly getting all her blood sucked out of her by a nosferat. He could go literally years without seeing the same person more than once, but for Rey, this was the third time in six months.

She was yelling and fighting but the trouble with having your blood sucked out of you is that blood brings energy in times like this and it wasn’t just her life being sucked out of her. It was her strength, her lucidity, her everything.

“Try me instead,” Kylo growled at the nosferat, who turned and looked at him with wide black eyes quite as unnatural as his own golden ones. She hissed at him, long fangs extending out and she left Rey behind. 

He didn’t bother taking his sword out. The sword would likely do nothing. Silver was the thing for vampires, especially with the sun several hours away. 

He retreated towards Whisper, hoping to get his fingers into his saddle bag. Once upon a time, he had worn a silver chain around his neck just for instances of surprise vampires that should be put down. But one time where a rampaging goat had gotten its horns hooked into it and the chain had nearly choked him to death. After that, the thing stayed firmly in his saddlebags.

The nosferat hissed again, or wailed—something between the two—and pounced at him, her lips finding his neck as he stumbled backwards into his horse, his fingers scrabbling at leather until he found the catch and opened it and, more wild than controlled, he flung the silver into the side of the vampire’s face.

She stumbled back, clutching at her skin and now it was Kylo’s turn to pounce. He grabbed her arms and wrists and tugged them behind her back, tying them with the chain. This time the vampire screamed the sort of scream that curdled the blood as she fought and writhed against the chain. 

“Will that hold her?” Rey asked, clutching her neck.

“Sit down,” Kylo growled. “You’ll make yourself dizzy.”

“I’m fine,” she snapped at him, but she was already swaying in a way that even she couldn’t deny. So she sunk down to the ground and watched as he continued to wrestle the nosferat into the center of the clearing and this time, used rope to bind her in place. When the sun rose, her flesh would melt clear off her.

“It’ll hold her enough,” Kylo said then he gave Rey a sharp look. “What  _ happened? _ ”

“I saw a strange woman alone in the woods and offered her a spot by my fire,” Rey said.

“You just offered a strange woman a spot by your fire?”

“Yes. She was alone and it was—”

“You can’t just  _ do _ that, there are creatures who lure their prey in by pretending to be poor women alone in the woods. I know you weren’t raised in court, but surely wherever you grew up warned you of that?” He could have sworn that Tai had no fewer than twelve songs about it.

“I can take care of myself,” Rey retorted.

“Two of the last three times I’ve seen you prove otherwise.”

And Rey grabbed a sword from the underbrush that Kylo had not noticed. It must have been what she’d tried to use to fight off the vampire, not realizing that steel left no damage to them. “Try me,” she growled. “Just try me. I’m equal to you—I know it.”

But her arm was trembling from blood lost as she held the sword in front of her and Kylo grunted. “Maybe another time,” he said. “I would only want to beat you in a fair fight.”

“Don’t think you can take me?” Rey laughed. It was almost a hysterical laugh.

“You’re alive,” he whispered to her. “You’re alive, and you’ll be strong again soon.”

“I’m strong now,” she said, but now her lower lip was trembling in a way that had little to do with the loss of blood.

It was a frightening thing—nearly dying. And she was so young. Young and hadn’t learned to numb herself the way he’d had to. Mother, and father, and Tai.

“You are,” he agreed. “Just stupid.”

“I’m  _ not _ stupid.”

“You let a vampire surprise you when—”

“One mistake doesn’t make me stupid,” Rey snapped. “ _ Stupid _ is not raising your mug to the Emperor when you’re in a tavern surrounded by his supporters, even when you’re drunk.”

“Perhaps,” he grunted. “But that wouldn’t have killed me. Only bloodied me.”

“You were too drunk to hold your sword and the only reason you didn’t know was because you hadn’t tried holding it yet.”

Kylo swallowed. More that he hadn’t been able to find it, but Rey didn’t need to know that. “I have my pride.”

“And I have my kindness. Don’t try and tell me one is stupider than the other.”

He felt his lips quirk into what could have been called a smile, if he could remember what a smile was. He didn’t smile. He hadn’t even smiled when Tai had tried so hard to make him laugh. “Equally stupid,” he said at last.

And now it was Rey’s lips that quirked into a smile. “Yes,” she agreed. “Equally stupid.”


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say I have an excuse for the delays on these chapters, but when the excuse is "I've been playing too much Animal Crossing" I feel like it doesn't really count...
> 
> Thanks for bearing with me, y'all.

“We’re not equally stupid anymore.”

He can’t even blame her for that. He’s too exhausted for it. And covered in blood, though thankfully, blessedly, not his own. Rey had done him the courtesy of dragging the succubus off him after she’d stabbed her right through its heart while she rode him. He’d been able to cover up his lower half while she’d done it at least. 

“In fact,” Rey continued as she found a cloth and dunked it into a pail of water by the fireplace before throwing it at him to clean the blood up, “I’d go so far as to say you’re infinitely more stupid than me, because you’ve been alive how much longer than me  _ and _ are a famous monster catcher and yet here you are, with your life force nearly sucked out through your—” she cut herself off though and her face went still as he just lay there, staring at her dazedly.

He’d been drunk again, and he’d thought the whore had looked a little like Rey but that was wrong. She’d had the same chestnut hair, maybe, but their faces were different and their eyes…

Rey’s eyes gleamed at him in the firelight the way that the succubus’ had only done after she’d ridden him for… for… he didn’t know how long. She hadn’t been Rey but he’d been thinking of Rey. He shouldn't have been. He shouldn’t have been, and then, suddenly, the succubus was dead and bleeding all over him and there was Rey with a sword and look of panic on her face—the last thing he had expected and yet somehow wholly unsurprising.

Rey was right and he was stupid and he knew what pain loss could bring him and yet here he was dreaming she’d be at his side the way that Tai was, that she’d live forever with him and—

And look at him the way she was now, as though she hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted him to live until just that moment, as though she were seeing him in a whole new light.

Which, he supposed, she was. He was half-naked and covered in blood.

And she’d given him something to clean himself with. Slowly, he began to do so and out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw her lick at her dry lips. 

The room wasn’t that dry.

Or maybe he was just being stupid—willfully so.

“Anyway, we’re not even anymore. What were you saying, about how you should have known better?”

“Shut up,” he muttered almost fondly. 

“Only if you promise to listen,” she said and she sounded oddly breathless and when he looked at her she flushed.

“I’ll listen,” he said at last. “Only if you do too. I’d prefer neither of us find ourselves dead before we see each other again.”


	6. Chapter 5

“We have to stop meeting like this,” he joked. He joked? He didn’t joke. And yet there was Rey, covered in blood, her gaze disoriented.

The mage was dead, his blood pooling on the floor. One of Dameron’s, if he had to guess.

“I need to get back,” she said and for once when she got to her feet, she didn’t sway. There was purpose in her stride. “I’m going to  _ murder _ my grandfather.”

“Hang on,” Kylo said, grabbing her arm. “That’s the hypnotism talking.”

“I’m not  _ hypnotized _ ,” Rey said. “He’s the one who sent me here, the one who sent me to try and root out the rebellion, who throws me constantly across the path of danger in the name of the legacy he claims he’ll pass onto me if I’m worthy. And I’m tired of it.”

“I don’t think regicide is going to solve your problem,” Kylo said. “Not least because I’ve never known anyone to survive regicide quite like Emperor Palpatine.”

“It will if I’m trying to save Finn.”

“Finn?” And his stomach swoops. If he was constantly trying to keep Rey alive, who was she trying to keep alive? And if she felt the way he felt every time he saved her, like he can breathe a little easier, like she’s safe and he kept something at bay…

“My best friend,” she said. “He followed me to court and the second he did…” She took a long shuddering breath, “My grandfather,” she spat the word like it was a curse, “He locked him away. He said he’d kill him or hurt him if I didn’t…”

“Do what he said?” Kylo finished when Rey couldn’t. He understood now—better than he had before. Rey’s dissatisfaction with her situation took on a whole new light like this. 

Rey nodded, looking hopeless. “Anyway,” she said. “I try not to dwell on it. I don’t know what I can do. I don’t—” she swallowed. “I’ve never felt so trapped. And I hate it. Sometimes I think that being hypnotized to my doom,” she nodded to the dead mage, “Or having my blood sucked out of me would be better than this.”

“It wouldn’t be,” Kylo said fiercely.

“No,” she agreed. “But this…” she shook her head. “I can’t keep on like this. When I think about it, I just want to scream. I don’t know what to do.” Misery lined her face. It did not suit her. She gave him a sad smile. “Here’s where you’re supposed to say that you’ll think of something.”

“I won’t lie to you,” Kylo grunted. “I haven’t thought of something and I’ve known him longer than you’ve been alive. I don’t know what it’ll take to…” he sighed and looked down at the dead mage at his feet. “Poe Dameron has some ideas.”

“Yes, but Poe Dameron also wants me dead. I can’t imagine that he’d listen to a word I had to say.”

“It’s possible,” Kylo agreed. “He might listen to me.”

“The Witcher who saved the Emperor from certain death?” She sighed. “I don’t want to accept this truth. I don’t. I want to keep fighting.”

“Then keep fighting,” Kylo said at last. “If you can’t run from it, keep fighting. He has to have a weakness. Every monster does.”

“What is your weakness?” Rey asked sadly.

_ You. _

_ Tai. _

_ Remembering what I was. _

_ Remembering that I’ll always be alone. _

“You tell me,” he said. “What’s yours?”

And even if she doesn’t say it he can see the words there on her face—the same ones he hadn’t been able to make himself say.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Y'all,
> 
> Sorry for the delay on this chapter. The world has been a whole lot of Lot lately. If you haven't already, and you have the capacity, please donate to some [bail funds](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1X4-YS3vFn5CLL9QtJSU0xqmTh_h8XilXgOqGAjZISBI/preview?fbclid=IwAR0m2wdynIo6BBE1wigYHodMGgbhLh_EpecOyE4cHsu_VW5LQaGZ2V_Ku-I&pru=AAABcopMPQU*K_puEnU-cBUGKdR1iGi4tA). Take care of yourselves—your brains and hearts.

But fate is cruel—especially when she is denied.

He learned this young when he was taken from his parents—who had done all they could to protect him from what all signs said was his destiny; he learned it with Tai, too. 

He found her dead. Dead in an inn not far from Naboo with nervous villagers milling about, hoping that the Emperor wouldn’t take it out on them, that there wouldn’t be mass hangings as there had been after the defiance at Endor. “He hadn’t even formally legitimized her yet,” Kylo heard someone say as though from very far away. 

His feet couldn’t keep him from going inside, from climbing the stairs, from finding her. He needed to see it with his own two eyes, needed to. With Tai, he’d only ever heard it. But Rey—

She lay there on the floor, twisted horribly. Someone had clearly turned her over to see if she was breathing which she wasn’t. Her eyes were open, her gaze was glassy, and that howl in the room—that pain and grief that echoed off the walls, that was him, wasn’t it? Kylo bent over her, his fingers finding the side of her neck and pressing, desperately hoping for a pulse he knew wasn’t there.

“We weren’t trying to deny you,” Kylo heard himself say. “I saw her four times in less than a year—of course we were fated and we knew it. How could we not? We weren’t trying to defy you—just obey her grandfather.”

He heaved her up into his arms, holding her close. She was still warm. She must only just have died. He could have saved her, could have helped her.

“Why do you always take things from me?” he demanded no one. “And what do I get? What do I do except try—”

He remembered his mother. _Don’t go, Ben. This isn’t the way._

_It’s my destiny, mother._

It wasn’t his destiny to hold Rey, dead in his arms. That can’t have been why the fates bound them together. He was destined to save her, and she was destined to save him. They were tied to one another, equal to one another. She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t be dead.

There was magic—there were ways to bring people back. But not in a way where she’d still have those vibrant eyes of hers, not in a way where she’d call him stupid. It would be the height of stupidity to try and do anything that would desecrate all that Rey had been just to have her breathe again. _Breathe_ , he thought. _Breathe for me. Breathe._

What magic could compare to her smile? 

“Why is it that I always have to be alone?” he moaned. “Why?” What would it be that would remind him of Rey? An errant melody always made him think of Tai, lilacs made him think of his mother, the wind in his hair made him think of his father. Would it be firelight for Rey? Blood? Every damned pulse that his heart sent through him?

_Are you really alone, Ben?_

It was his mother’s voice, as fresh and clear and young as if he were still a boy, as if he were still named Ben. “Yes,” he snapped at his own mind. Of course it would bring her back right now, right in this moment. Salt in the wound, twisting the knife to make it hurt more. He clung to Rey.

“She’s gone,” he kept muttering. “She’s gone. She’s really gone.”

And he was alone again.

_Let go. Let the past die. Let go. Let go of her._

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t.

He could pretend she was alive in his arms if he just held onto her a bit longer. 

_How?_ How had she died? There was no sign of a stabbing, no blood on her scalp. 

He ran his fingers over her dead lips and found the remnant of something oily. He sniffed it. 

And he was on his feet, dragging Rey up and turning her about, pumping his fists against her stomach again, and again, and again. Her heart had stopped, her lungs had stopped—they’d need help getting the magic out of her. And if the magic that was stopping their motion…

He had learned long ago not to hope and yet he couldn’t help himself as he kept pulling her gut towards him with as much force as he could. Again, and again, and again.

“Live,” he begged her. “Live, damn you.”

And she was coughing and sputtering and dark oily tar was coming out of her lips as she gasped for air. Her body was twitching, rebelling, revolting. 

“Rey,” he said. “Rey, keep coughing. Keep coughing it up. You can do it.”

“Kylo,” she coughed and if he thought he knew how still, he would cry. She was alive. Her hands were on his fists, moving along his arms as she gasped and coughed and more and more of the bile came up and out. 

When there was no more to cough up, he helped her sink once again to the floor and he couldn’t stop himself. His fingers traced the lines of her face, rested on her neck to find that beautiful throbbing pulse of hers. Her lips were still blackened and oily but he couldn’t make himself touch them to wipe it away. Not yet. Instead, he brushed her sweaty hair out of her eyes and when he asked it, it came out angry. “Where did you get it?”

“Get what?”

“Whatever it was you ate or drank that did that to you? Where did it come from?”

Rey’s breathing was shaky. 

“My grandfather.”

“Your grandfather?” he asked slowly. 

He hadn’t felt a rage like this in a long time. The sort that made him tremble, the sort that made him want to break things, break people, break the world. She’d been fated to _him_ to protect and her damned grandfather had lied about it, and now he wanted her dead? Why not just let her go, be free? What harm could a girl do to his empire? Or was it as simple a matter as _if I can’t have her, you definitely can’t._

“I will rend him limb from limb,” Kylo heard himself shouting. He was on his feet again and he was hurling a pitcher of water into the fireplace where it shattered and the flames hissed and smoked but did not die. 

“Kylo.”

“Everything he does destroys me. Why did I save him? Why? He should be dead and we should both be free of him.” 

“Kylo,” Rey said more urgently.

“He took my mother from me, my _life_ from me, and now he would kill you? You’re his damned legacy, his flesh and blood.” The man had no soul, but then again, Kylo had known that for years. He was a Witcher and yet at every turn, he felt so powerless. He _hated_ feeling powerless. He did everything he could not to. And yet here he was, trembling because he’d almost lost her. She’d almost been taken from him.

“Kylo!” And this time she was yelling, her voice shredded and angry and he went still. Her eyes were wide and disappointed. “Stop.”

“Stop?” he asked. “When he has you trapped and would poison—”

“He wins if you lose control of yourself. Your own anger will be your undoing. It’ll blind you. So stop.”

“I—” he began. 

“Don’t be stupid. He’s too smart for you to be your stupid self. I’m alive. You,” she swallowed. “You kept me alive.”

“I will always keep you alive,” he promised. “Always. As long as I live, you do too.”

“And I’ll keep you alive,” she replied in turn and a shiver went up his spine, a whisper. Fate. This was how it was supposed to have been.

Especially with her lips surging up to meet his, her hands weaving their way through his silver hair. Her breath tasted of death but oh—oh in all his years wandering the planet, he’d forgotten what it was to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I commissioned a piece of art from Saliha for a part of this chapter, which you can find [here](https://twitter.com/crossing_winter/status/1269397676182904837) and [here](https://shmisolo.tumblr.com/post/620214970231177217/but-fate-is-cruelespecially-when-she-is-denied)!


	8. Chapter 7

She’d told him not to be stupid, but maybe he couldn’t help it. Maybe he was born stupid, or maybe she made him stupid and he couldn’t care if it meant that she was safe. Really safe. No rebellion that wanted her head to upend her grandfather, no grandfather who toyed with her life because all lives were his to toy with. Just him and her and the open road and whatever it was they wanted to be. 

So he snuck into Theed in the dead of night, his sword in his hand, skirting the shadows around torches, keeping his step lighter than a cat’s. Palpatine’s guards were good, but they grew confused and chased down a stone he threw at a barrel and left the gate unguarded for just enough time for him to slip through it.

He had only been to this castle once before, but he had found over the years most castles weren’t that difficult to navigate. You just thought the way that the ruler making it would think, and Palpatine—he wouldn’t keep his prisoners where prisoners should be kept, behind bars and below ground.

Up, and up, and up he climbed to the tallest tower, dodging guards and doing his absolute best not to worry about what he’d find at the top. If he was wrong, and if he was being stupider than he should be…

The door was locked which did not surprise him, so he took it off its hinges and leaned it against the wall. The night sky opened before him and perhaps three feet of stone ledge. No bars on the window—the prisoner was welcome to jump if he wanted. 

The prisoner in question was leaning against the side of the room, his eyes wide, wary. He was thin, his clothes were ragged, and he stank. 

“Finn?”

“Who are you?” the man asked, his voice hard.

“Rey sent me,” Kylo lied. The man—Finn—relaxed at once. “Come on.”

He didn’t need to tell him twice. Finn stepped into the hallway and Kylo put the door back on its hinges—harder than taking it off, but he supposed it didn’t have to be perfect. It just needed to make them think there hadn’t been a breakout.

“This way,” he said and he began to lead Finn through the darkened castle.

There seemed to be more guards this time, and Finn was not as quiet as Kylo needed him to be and it made the guards less inclined to be easily distracted.

“What do we do?” Finn asked when they’d sat there for a full five minutes.

The answer came because it was fated.

“Guards?” he heard Rey say and his heart skipped a beat. Had she seen them? Did she know that they needed her help?

“Princess,” both men said, bowing deeply to her. 

It was enough and he and Finn slipped past both men as they bowed over and he saw Rey’s eyes go wide. 

Kylo jerked his head, hoping to indicate  _ east of town _ as he and Finn disappeared into the darkness.  _ Come. Be free with us. _

“She didn’t know you were coming for me, did she,” Finn asked when they made it out of the castle gates.

“No,” Kylo said. “She would have told me not to be stupid.” 

“Would it have worked?” Finn asked.

“No.”

“Why?” 

“You ask a lot of questions for a man who was just rescued.”

“I don’t know who you are and why you freed me, or what you mean to Rey so that you’d lie about it.”

“She should be free,” he said. “And she couldn’t be while she worried for your life. And I couldn’t be while she wasn’t free either. So I freed you, to free her, to free me.”

“You love her or something?” Finn sounded a little sardonic, which only annoyed him.

_ Love is an understatement. _

Instead, he just grunted, which Finn accepted and left at that.

They waited three hours. “She’d better hurry or else the guards’ll notice I’m missing,” Finn said. 

Which would be just his luck—stuck on the road with a stranger to look after and Rey… imprisoned perhaps, caught for his deed? Put in the tower he’d freed Finn from?

But no sooner had he had this thought when he heard hoofbeats—many of them and as he stared down the road he saw Rey racing the dawn… with guards in pursuit. 

“Fuck,” he muttered and mounted Whisper, helping Finn up behind him. 

And the moment her horse was close enough, he kicked his to a gallop and the three of them raced the wind towards the dawn.


	9. Epilogue

_ Winter was frigid and silent in the north. The snow muffled all sounds, and inns burned cartloads of firewood every night.  _

_ “Well?” growled the man in the cape as he lowered his hood. His dark hair curled, and was slowly unfreezing from the cold outside. “Where are they?” _

_ “They’re coming,” said Finn, his bow resting across his knees. The tavern was mostly empty, but Dameron had insisted that no one would betray them here. _

_ “Are they?” Dameron asked sharply. “Or are Imperial guards about to appear out of nowhere.” _

_ “No guards.” _

_ “Then where are they?” _

_ Finn looked up at the ceiling. There was a knocking of furniture, too rhythmic to be someone getting up from a chair.  _

_ “They’re…” Dameron began and then shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Ale,” he called to the barman who nodded. “I hope they hurry up at least,” he said. _

_ “I told them when you’d be here,” Finn replied evenly. He was on his second mug of beer. _

_ They sat quietly, trying to ignore the rhythmic sound overhead, then trying not to count the seconds between when it stopped and when the two other negotiators appeared in the stairway, sweaty, pink-cheeked and relaxed. _

_ “Are you sure this is what you want?” the Witcher asked the runaway princess quietly as they approached the table. She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. It was a question he had asked many times before.  _

_ She didn’t say a word to him, though. Instead, she turned to Poe Dameron, who had not gotten to his feet or called her princess, and said, “Sir, I hear you and I wish to restore justice to the realm.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone and I hope you enjoyed <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! You can find me [here!](http://linktr.ee/crossingwinter)


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